"So what do you think will happen?"
"I think the book will go, but everything else will stay the same."
I remember Apollo Smintheus. The mice would all just dissolve into the air, I think. The world wouldn't change. No one would notice. I just don't get it. How can you go back to edit the past and expect it only to change the future a little bit?
"You think. You don't know?"
"Sometimes thinking is knowing," she says.
And then I wonder what this is. Is my last trip in the Troposphere an experiment or something less or more than that? But I have to go. I know all the reasons why. And I am glad Lura is telling me all this before I do. Presumably my thoughts won't change? I hope not. There's still so much to think about.
My stomach churns. I've made a decision. I'm going to do it this afternoon.
I tell Lura.
"Yes," she says. "I think it's the right time."
When Burlem gets back we all have another cup of tea, and they ask if I want lunch before I go, as if I were a weekend guest about to take a train back to London. I should have some lunch, but I don't have any appetite at all. I don't want to say good-bye, exactly, and it's clear that they don't want to, either. Saying good-bye would be a bit frightening, and it's not even clear that we are saying good-bye. Perhaps I will be able to find my way back, and perhaps I will still know who they are when I get here.
The black circle on the card. Perhaps I don't even need that. But I take it out of my bag anyway. And so I find myself lying on my bed just as the sun starts to fade in the sky like a dissolving tablet, wondering if I'll ever see anything in this world again. I'm sure I no longer need the liquid; so now all that remains is for me to lift the black circle up above my eyes. And I'm blurring away from here. Good-bye, I think. I didn't want to say it before. But suddenly I have to. I have to end this properly. Good-bye, Lura. Good-bye, Burlem. Good-bye...
It's nighttime in the Troposphere, as usual. I'm standing on a familiarly cluttered street, with too many edges and outsides and insides. But I can make sense of it. There are cobbles beneath my feet, but on either side of me there are great looming gray buildings set behind rows of shops, casinos, herbalists, brothels, sex shops, pawn shops, and toy shops. There's a tiny antique bookshop on the corner, and I think: Burlem. But I can't see anything at all that relates to Lura. The neon flickers everywhere. OPEN. OPEN. GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS. Some of the signs are just arrows, and when I look at them they seem to be pointing at other arrows. One of them says YOU ARE HERE. Another points to a doorway that, when I approach it, looks like the entrance to a mouse hole. Do I want to see Apollo Smintheus? I suppose I have to see him. I have to find out exactly where to find Abbie Lathrop. I walk towards the mouse hole.
And then the sky darkens.
There's movement. What's happening? I catch a glimpse of brown, and then blue. That color blue: Where have I seen it before? But I don't have too much time to speculate because the next thing that happens is that both the KIDS walk out of the mouse hole.
"Aha," says one of them, the one in the cowboy suit.
"Too fucking easy," says the other one, his blue cape moving in a nonexistent breeze.
They both giggle.
Oh God.
"Well, there's her mind. There's the gate. Let's go in and finish this job," says the first one.
"It doesn't look like everyone else's minds," says the boy in the cape. "It's all full of weeds."
"Yeah, well. Who cares, right?"
"Wait," I say.
"Wait," says the one in the cape, mimicking my voice.
"Yeah, right," says the other one. "Wait."
They giggle again.
"We never get to have any fun in here," says the one in the cape.
Shit. Shit. What do I say now?
"This is going to be the most exciting thing we've ever done" says the one in the cowboy suit. "Woo-hoo!" He makes a little whooping sound as if his parents have just told him that he can have that toy, or that they are going to the zoo, or that he can stay up late and watch the film with everyone else.
"I know what happened to you," I say. "I'm really sorry."
"Why? You didn't kill us," says the one in the cape.
"No, but..." I want to say something about how I understand; about how I think I might be one of them. But nothing comes.
"Shut up, Benjy," says the cowboy. Then, to me: "Don't try to psychoanalyze us, bitch."
The other one opens his eyes wide, and then laughs.
"OK, coming through," says the other kid. He pulls a skateboard from under his cape. "Come on, Michael."
I've got to do something. But what could I possibly do? There aren't even any weapons here. No metal bars or anything like that. Although I get the impression that those things wouldn't work so well on these two.
Where is Apollo Smintheus?
Please help me, I think.
"We've already taken care of your lover boy," says Michael, the cowboy.
The other one stifles another giggle. I don't know why he tried to hide it: It's not as if I can do anything about it.
"He's really lost his mind," says Benjy. He rotates his finger around by one of his temples. "Cuckoo. Cuckoo," he says.
Oh God. What does this mean? Did they get to Adam in the priory? I imagine them sneaking in there somehow, despite everything being closed, and finding him: creeping into his mind like deranged little goblins. What would they do then? Perhaps they tried to persuade him to come out with the book. But they didn't know the book was there. So what would their motivation have been? Just spite? Or maybe they thought he knew where I'd gone. Maybe they wanted to find that information. And then, for whatever reason, they turned his brain into spaghetti. Just as they'd promised to do to me. Just as they are now going to do to me, because there's nothing I can do to stop them.
And then I see another shape moving down the street towards us. It's a man, walking alone. At first I think it's Apollo Smintheus, but this figure isn't quite as tall. And then the shape comes closer and I realize that it's a man running.
It's Adam.
"Are you sure you succeeded with that?" I ask the boys.
And I'm grinning now. Adam's carrying two rocket launchers, one slung over each arm. Where on earth...? And then I see that he's carrying something else, too. A white paper bag with twisted edges, like a bag of old-fashioned sweets. What is happening? Am I dreaming this? No. This is real. As real as anything can be.
The KIDS turn to see what I'm looking at.
"Oh. It's the priest," says Benjy.
"Bor-ing," says Michael.
"Hello," I say, as Adam hands me one of the rocket launchers.
"Ariel," he says, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. "At last."
"Where the ... I mean how did you get these?" I ask him.
"Oh, I met God," he says. "It's great in here, isn't it?"
"Um..."
"Well, apart from these little fuckers."
"Oh no," squeals Benjy, stamping his foot. "We got the wrong guy."
"Whoops," says Michael.
Wolf, I think for a moment. They saw me with Wolf.
"I told them you were involved with Patrick," Adam says.
"How do you know about Patrick?" I ask.
"I'm afraid I know everything," Adam says. "I'll tell you how in a moment."
He raises the rocket launcher and aims it at Michael.